


Laurent is a Pet AU

by Behind_The_Hood



Series: Captive Prince Tumblr Drabbles, Snippets, and Prompts [7]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Sex, Assassination Attempt(s), Body Paint, Disguise, False Identity, Jealousy, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 10,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Behind_The_Hood/pseuds/Behind_The_Hood
Summary: With the help of Ancel, Laurent dresses as a pet to find out who is trying to kill Auguste.





	1. Glitter and Gold

**Author's Note:**

> shae-la-hyene asked: Prompt : Laurent asks Ancel to dress him as a pet for a secret mission, because he doesn't really have jewels on his own.

“This seems far from necessary,” Laurent mumbles as Ancel dabs his finger over Laurent’s lips, smearing gloss.

Ancel’s eyes stay on Laurent’s lips. “If you plan to charm your way into the Akielon prince’s guestrooms, you must look the part of someone he’d want there.” Ancel stays focused on his task for a second longer, then adds a deliberately belated, “my Prince.”

Laurent lets it slide only for the fact that Ancel is sparing his time and jewels to help Laurent with his mission. He will also be earning a pretty penny for his efforts.

When it comes time to add jewels to his body, Laurent dislikes the looks the pet gives him.

“I see you already have many of these places pierced,” Ancel teases as he hands Laurent a blue gem to put though his navel. “And here I thought we’d need elaborate clip-ons or sticky glue to hold them in place.”

Laurent doesn’t want to know what else sticky glue might be used for or why Ancel has any. “I’m surprised you even kept any other color jewel. All you ever seem to wear is emerald.”

Ancel sees no point in comment, which is wise on his part; Laurent is still his Prince. He just hands over a single drooping earring and walks away, coming back with pet paint.

Laurent detests pet paint, even on the pets, but he swallows the complaints and closes his eyes to let Ancel paint gold and blue swirls and dots over his arms and chest and neck and face.

Laurent nearly jumps out of his skin when cold fingers touch his nipples.

Ancel is glaring down at them, pinching them between his stained fingers, then gives a little tug. Laurent’s cock stirs in interest and Laurent viciously kills the feeling. His nipples are far too sensitive if  _Ancel_  can draw his interest from such a plain touch.

“Are these pierced? I have rings for them. Or we can just clamp them. The Akielons will be arriving tonight in time for festivities; clamps on a pet would surprise no one.”

Laurent takes Ancel by his wrists and removes his hands from his chest. “Yes, they’re pierced. Rings will be fine.”

A dismissal if there ever was one. Ancel gives the smirk of a predator who just learned his prey’s weakness, but scampers off after the rings without further prompting.

Laurent dares a glance at himself in the mirror while Ancel isn’t looking, and is startled by what he finds there. Laurent no longer looks like a prince, he barely even looks like himself.

Laurent usually keeps himself tightly laced and expression icy. Now, he looks seductive. Silks billowing around his legs, arms decorated with bracelets and paints, torso in a similar situation. His face has a golden paint to compliment his cheekbones and a gloss to give his full lips shine, blue lines his eyes, a near match to his actual color.

They haven’t started on his hair yet, but that is sure to be just as elegant and sexy as everything else about him.

Laurent had been so lost looking at himself, he hadn’t noticed Ancel come up until the pet was already behind him, pressed to his back and meeting Laurent’s eyes through the mirror from over his shoulder. “The barbarian won’t know what hit him, my Prince.”


	2. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: *conspiratorily slides you a crisp imaginary 20 dollar bill* you’re amazing and you know what else would be? An extension of that one shot where Ancel dresses Laurent up like a pet

Damen nearly chokes on his drink when he lays eyes on the pet. A pretty little blond, one of the few in Vere, scantily clad and painted all over. Crystal blue and liquid gold.

He’s heard of the pet system, of a contract between a pet and their patron. Sort of like a short term slave, though more brazen and with more liberties.

This pet joined the party with a haughty redhead at his side; by the way he’s dressed he’s also a pet. They split though, and seek out either their patrons or potentials.

Damen watches the blond, hoping he’s searching and isn’t already bought.

The blond drifts from person to person, never settling anywhere for too long. Damen is feeling hopeful, and thinks about approaching, then wonders if that’s following etiquette. He’s already seen as a barbarian, best to follow as many Veretian customs as he can.

The blond looks over his shoulder, tucking a shining strand of hair behind his ear, and his eyes land on Damen.

They’re sharp, the eyes of a predator, and Damen’s never been more thankful to be prey. The blond turns, keeping his eyes on Damen, and makes his way over on delicate bare feet.

He glides over the grass with grace. Damen feels lost in the ocean of his eyes, and before he knows it, the pet has arrived, and settled nicely in his lap. Damen doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch or not, but he knows he wants to.

“I’m Charls, if you like,” the pet says, lacing his fingers into Damen’s curls.

Damen can feel his cock stirring, and worries about how public the space is. “Prince Damianos.”

Charls raises a beautifully arched brow. “A prince?” The pet’s lips press together and he begins to rise.

Damen grabs his hips before he can leave, not demanding but halting.

The pet seems nonplussed, but he resettles. “I’m afraid I won’t be much to your tastes.”

Damen caresses his cheek, careful of the immaculate paint. “You may be surprised to find you are exactly to my tastes.”

Charls smiles and settles himself more fully in Damen’s lap, against his cock. Damen anticipates a very pleasant evening ahead.

* * *

Damianos had offered a lot of gem encrusted jewelry in return for a night with Charls. Laurent shakes his head. He’ll add the jewelry to Ancel’s pay.

Damianos had been a good lay, but not what Laurent had come here for.

He slips from the sheets, warm and still moist with sweat. Damianos doesn’t stir, but Laurent doesn’t expect him to.

Laurent looks through the papers in a chest Damianos had brought with him, and when that proves fruitless, he goes for the desk.

Laurent cannot find the note, but he needs the proof. He needs to find out who Damianos sent to kill Auguste.

A warm body presses to his back, large hands cage him at the desk. It seems Damianos has woken up, and he’s more light footed than his big body would have you believe.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounds dangerous.

Laurent didn’t expect Damianos to wake back up, he’d slipped a sleep aid into his drink to ensure he wouldn’t until Laurent could slip away.

He hadn’t accounted for his massive size well enough.

Laurent presses back, onto Damianos’ cock. It earns him a grunt, a hand gripping his hip. “I was hoping for a third round, on the desk this time.”

“Is that so?” Damianos asks, then beats his hips violently into Laurent’s, knocking him into the desk.

A hand to his back holds Laurent down, and Damianos twists one of his arms to a painful angle.

“Ngh!” Laurent’s arm burns, his shoulder threatening to part from its socket. He smirks. “Kinky.”

Damianos bares his weight down on Laurent. “Why are you here? Who sent you?”

Laurent glares and doesn’t speak. What use would that be?

“One call of my guards and your head will be on a pike, pet. Now answer me.”


	3. Hidesight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: yes hello, i love the Laurent dressed as a pet promp! more please??? <3

Damianos grips his arm tighter, so Laurent uses the only thing at his disposal, and presses back against Damianos’ cock again. He bites his lip.

Damianos makes a noise in his throat, more confusion than arousal. “…Is this turning you on?”

Laurent smirks. Damianos is too far behind him to make eye contact with, so he stares at the wall to his side. “Never had a Veretian pet before, have you?”

Damianos doesn’t let up, but his tone changes. “Why were you looking through the papers on my desk?”

“I can read, but not Akielon. I wasn’t looking at your papers, I was looking for more oil.” A good enough lie, believable. Hopefully Damianos will buy it. Laurent adds with a smile, going pliant under Damianos’ body, “You pay so well, I though to get a little more out of you before we part.”

Damianos releases Laurent’s arm with the caution of a warrior, and Laurent can respect that even if he detests everything else about the man. He thought Akielons were supposed to be honorable. Why would Damianos pay an assassin to kill Auguste?

And where is he hiding the agreement?

Maybe he burned it, and Laurent is wasting his time here.

Damianos rises off of Laurent, and rubs at the shoulder he’d threatened to dislocate. He moves Laurent’s hair over his other shoulder and presses a kiss to his neck, already littered in marks.

Laurent figures he may as well pry verbally, since looking has gotten him nowhere. He tilts his head and pulls one of Damianos’ hands to his hip. Damianos rocks them together in a gentle rhythm. “Are you enjoying your time in Vere so far?”

He can feel Damianos smile against his neck. “It’s been very pleasant.”

Laurent can feel Damianos growing hard. He brings Damianos’ other hand, the one rubbing his shoulder, around to his chest. Damianos takes the hint and pulls at the ring in his nipple. “What do you think of the people?”

Another tug. Laurent gasps. “I like the people a lot,” he says, placing a wet kiss behind Laurent’s ear. “Less suspicious than I thought. A lot kinkier than I believed.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Laurent says as he turns in Damianos’ arms. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Damianos grins and drags Laurent back to the bed. On closer inspection, Laurent can see gold and blue paint smeared over the sheets. Damianos sits, pulls Laurent to kneel over his lap. “Do you enjoy the food?”

“It’s very sweet,” Damianos says against his neck, intent on leaving the whole thing red apparently.

“I enjoy sweets,” Laurent tells him, a little truth to mix in with all the lies. He cards his fingers into Damianos’ hair and pulls his head to Laurent’s chest. “And the king?”

“Auguste is a fine man,” he says around a nipple.

Laurent sighs. “He is soft, and too trusting. It will get him killed.” See if discontent will reveal Damianos’ own.

Damianos pulls away from his chest, eyes a little dazed, but bewildered. “My brother says the same thing. What is wrong with being kind and trusting your people?”

“This is Vere, Damianos.” But he’s given Laurent pause.

Damianos rolls them so Laurent is on his back, Damianos between his thighs.

Does Damianos truly believe Auguste a good man?

Damianos reaches into the drawer and pulls out a veil of oil. He unstoppers it with his teeth.

Why would he send someone to kill Auguste if he felt that way?

Damianos spreads the oil on his cock, fingers some into Laurent, still loose from earlier.

He said his brother thought Auguste weak, though.

Damianos positions himself, leaning over to leave another mark on Laurent’s neck.

Kastor. He’s been searching the wrong prince.

Damianos presses in.

Laurent gasps.


	4. Rekt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ddanieldemi asked: I followed you for the Laurent dressed as a pet prompt, and I have no regrets...but if you are inclined to posting more for it, I would be ecstatic

Laurent tries to think, passed the euphoria and the lust, to Kastor. He’s in Vere too, down one room from his brother.

Laurent didn’t even consider the bastard. He’d heard prince, he’d thought Damianos.

Auguste’s life hangs in the balance, and Laurent has wasted a whole night getting absolutely wrecked.

He won’t even be able to walk away from the bed at this rate.

Damianos has him on his knees, held with Laurent’s back to his chest, thrusting deep inside of him.

Laurent thinks back, trying to remember who he saw interacting with Kastor, any new faces at the party last night. But his attention had been on Damianos, and with such a big celebration, so many new faces were there.

Damianos tilts Laurent’s head, catching his lips in a searing kiss. His hand curls around Laurent’s cock.

Kastor hadn’t arrived with anyone, and the Veretians would avoid him on principle, that would leave Vask, Patras, or Akielos. Akielos is too full of honor to have assassins, probably. Vask has a special interest in this party, with the empress’ daughter marrying Auguste. Patras gains nothing from this, and are not quite so honor-bound as Akielos.

He remembers Torveld seeing him, giving a secret smile at the sight of Laurent disguised as a pet. He’d sent a wink and said nothing.

Laurent doesn’t recall other Patrans catching his eye, but by then his focus was with Damianos. If he could just talk to Kastor, he may be able to get some information out of him.

“You have a brother, right?”

Damianos’ thrusts slow to a stop. “Yes?”

Laurent makes his eyes wide in faux innocence. “It’d cost a little extra, but–”

Damianos shakes his head. “I don’t want to share with my brother.”

Laurent blinks. “Why not?”

“If you want Kastor so bad,” Damianos starts, then snaps his hips forward. “Then you can go see him when we’re done.”

Laurent thinks of doing exactly that, but isn’t sure he can handle much more tonight, especially if the other Akielon prince is as well endowed as Damianos is.

He wonders if Kastor is into blonds as much as Damianos is. That would make things easier.

Damianos pulls out, and lays Laurent on his back. He stares down at Laurent with a frown. “Stop thinking about my brother.”

Laurent smirks. “Why? Does it make you jealous?”

Damianos presses Laurent’s thighs to his chest without a word and presses into him again. His rolls his hips at neck breaking speed.

Laurent gasps, then laughs. “That’s some pretty vicious thrusting for someone who loves their brother.”

Damianos places his hand over Laurent’s mouth, looking genuinely mad now. “I don’t want to talk about my brother.”

Laurent licks Damianos’ hand to get it off his mouth, it doesn’t work though.

Damianos has Laurent’s legs over his shoulders, a hand over Laurent’s mouth, and is working his hips against Laurent’s with every intention of cumming soon.

Laurent can barely breathe, feels pulled tight and ready to snap. His fingers curl around Damianos’ wrist, nails digging into his skin.

Damianos is panting, glaring down at Laurent, the hand not over his mouth pressed into the mattress by his head.

He moves his hand away to stick his tongue down Laurent’s throat, wrapping his hand around Laurent’s cock. Laurent keens, cums.

Damianos follows after, groaning.

He pulls out, and rolls off Laurent. He doesn’t even allow Laurent a moment to catch his breath. “Get out.”

Laurent freezes in his spot. He looks over, but Damianos has his back to him, cleaning himself off with his chiton. “What?”

“You can leave now. I’m done wasting time on people who want Kastor more.” He pulls the sheets over his body, and Laurent is dismissed.

Laurent gets off the bed on shaking legs, cum running down his thighs and sticking to his stomach. He redresses, takes the jewels he was paid, and leaves the room.

The guards outside the door don’t spare him a glance, and Laurent heads for his room.

His guards do spare him a glance. Utterly debauched and thoroughly used, dressed as a pet with jewelry in hand, and returning to bed just hours before the sun rises. Jord nearly chokes on his own spit and Lazar gives a low whistle.

Laurent isn’t in the mood for it. “Not a word of this will reach Auguste’s ears, or I’ll wear your cocks for necklaces.”

“Before or after we get a turn?” Lazar asks anyway, because he’s cheeky and likes to push his luck.

Laurent gives him the finger.


	5. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ddanieldemi asked: Someone else sent in two prompts which makes me feel like I possibly could as well. Once again, if you wanna extend the "Laurent dressed as a pet" line, I would appreciate it immensely ^^;

Laurent comes to Ancel’s rooms first thing in the morning. He’s back in his usual garb, laced from neck to toes, holier-than-thou attitude in place. Ancel’s hair looks no better than Laurent’s had when he’d returned to his rooms in the dark hours of the morning. Ancel looks more pleased than Laurent had.

Laurent drops the jewelry onto the end of his bed, ignoring Berenger still sleeping beside him. “I may require your assistance again. I’ll be in touch.”

Ancel grins, his eyes sparkling, and collects the jewelry to be sorted and put away later.

Laurent leaves the pet quarters and heads to the dining hall. Laurent is to have breakfast with his brother and their soon to be queen. Damianos will likely be there, but Laurent cannot miss another social gathering so soon after the first.

When he enters, Auguste smiles. Laurent takes his seat by his side without a word. They are the first to arrive, as is expected. The empress’ daughter will be the last.

“How did it go?” Auguste asks before taking a sip of tea.

Laurent does the same. “I was with the wrong prince.”

Auguste raises a brow, his smile falling. “Who, then, do you suspect now?”

“The bastard.”

Auguste nods, placing his cup down. “You don’t think Damianos is involved?”

Laurent considers, then shakes his head. “He and his brother are having a tiff right now, likely over a lover.”

Auguste raises a brow. “And how would you know that?”

Laurent goes to great lengths to keep his face from flushing. “I have my ways.”

Auguste leans back in his chair, lips tight. “You slept with him.”

Laurent glares at the tea in his cup, then sets it down. “What if I did?”

Auguste doesn’t get to answer, because Damianos and Kastor walk in then. Auguste glares at Damianos and Kastor alike.

They both bow, in regard to Auguste’s superior station, then take their seats. Kastor sits by Laurent, Damianos sits across from him.

Auguste gives a wicked grin. “Prince Damianos, Prince Kastor. I don’t believe you got the pleasure of meeting my brother last night. He was unable to attend the party.”

Kastor nods his head and sips at his tea. Damainos looks over at Laurent and his eyes widen immediately. Laurent shows no recognition on his face.

Auguste hums, feigning worry. “What’s the matter, Damianos? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

Damainos tears his eyes away from Laurent to look at Auguste. “No, uh, no ghost.”

He offers no more than that. Laurent feels foolish for thinking he could plot an assassination attempt.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Laurent says with a bow of his head. “Yours as well, Prince Kastor.” He smiles.

Kastor glances his way, thoughts swirling behind his uncaring eyes. Laurent would love the chance to know what he’s hiding. “A pleasure.”

Laurent greets other guests as they filter in, spending an extra moment to lightly flirt with Torveld, as they seem to do with each other. Laurent almost ended up matched to the man, at one point in his life, it seems fitting they keep a modicum of flirtation between one another.

When the queen to be arrives, all rise from their seats, and Auguste guides her to sit by his side. She is a spitting image of the empress, all dark hair and wild eyes. Laurent thinks she’ll hold herself well against the Veretian court.

Damianos stares all through breakfast, but Laurent has shifted his attention to the bastard prince at his side.

He manages light conversation with Kastor, who seems intent to not speak at all. The Veretians watch Laurent curiously, and Kastor seems of a similar stance.

When Laurent grows tired of being ignored, he touches a finger to Kastor’s thigh, slides it up the muscles not covered by his chiton, then rises. To Auguste, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

He slips out into the hall, then waits to see if Kastor will join him.


	6. He Couldn't Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: A part 6 of Laurent dressed as a pet would be amazing! I’m so curious to find out what happens next!!

Laurent’s back is to the wall, his arms folded. He’s tucked himself in an alcove, watching the door through a gauzy curtain.

To his surprise–-and he really shouldn’t have been-–Damianos steps out, clearly looking for Laurent.

Laurent hangs back, allowing him to look. He needs Kastor, not Damianos.

Luckily, Damianos wanders off down the hall. He’ll be back eventually, but hopefully by then Laurent will have Kastor.

And Kastor does comes out, but Laurent doesn’t reveal himself because Damianos comes back.

He watches and listens instead.

Damianos jogs over when he sees Kastor. “Kastor, have you seen Prince Laurent?”

Kastor looks over at Damianos, his face blank. “No.”

Damianos comes to stand with him. They’re by the doors to the formal dining room, but they’re thick doors with no guards posted. The guards are at the ends of the hall instead, to seem less hostile.

Laurent is no fool; he has some of the best men guarding Auguste’s person at all times, unseen.

“I can’t seem to find him,” Damianos says.

“What does it matter? Didn’t get enough out of your blond pet last night?” Kastor leers. He’d seen Laurent then, knows he left with Damianos.

“That’s the thing,” Damianos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. Laurent has to strain to hear him. “I think they’re one and the same.”

Kastor scoffs, quickly dismissing the thought, which is reassuring. “Clearly you haven’t heard the rumors about the little prince. Cold. Cast iron. Wouldn’t touch most people with an eight foot pole.”

He gives Laurent pause. Little?…Kastor isn’t going to sleep with Laurent. He’s here to reject him.

Damianos frowns. “I had heard that, actually.” He pauses, stares down at his sandals. How lucky the wedding is during the summer months when the chill of Vere is at its weakest. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” Kastor looks down the hall Damianos had come from, then heads in the opposite direction. “I’ll return shortly.”

Damianos’ brows furrow. “Where are you going?”

“Can a man not piss in private?”

Damianos shakes his head, a smile touching his lips, then returns inside. Laurent watches after Kastor, a plan forming in his head. It involves a renewed visit to Ancel.


	7. Another Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tazipuck16 asked: oh my godddd... more pet!Laurent pleeeease. I want to see Laurent's plan to derail Kastor!

Ancel knows the drill now. He’s a quick learner, and knows when to keep his mouth shut. Laurent wonders about taking his contract, but for a purpose wholly different from a pet’s usual services.

Laurent’s eyes are donned more heavily, his features more contoured. His silks accentuate his hips to give the illusion that they’re wider, his waist trained thin from the corsets he wears under his jackets.

Laurent wears red tonight, bright and fiery. Ancel sticks to his greens, but Laurent isn’t here to critique his looks.

Laurent is bejeweled and painted, his hair tied into several severe braids in the Vaskian style.

Then he’s ready to go.

* * *

Laurent wanders between the Vaskian men, all groping and catcalling, and smiles at the treatment before he wanders away. The plan to keep them happy is working well. Drunk, fed, and with contract-free pets in abundance, they’re getting their fill in every way imaginable.

Keeping the Vaskians happy is not a hard thing to accomplish, but necessary all the same.

Laurent makes his way passed Kastor, just far enough away to not be too obvious. He needs the man to see him first.

“Laurent?”

_Damianos_. Of course. Laurent keeps from reacting, continuing on his way through the crowd.

“Charls?” Damianos tries instead.

He falters his step, pivoting on his heels. He brings a curious look to his face. “Yes?”

Damianos walks up to him. He towers over Laurent, and Laurent feels a thrill run through him. “I was hoping to run into you.”

Laurent smirks, placing his hand on Damianos’ bare chest. “Were you?”

Damianos takes Laurent’s hand and removes it from his chest. Laurent frowns. “I need to talk to you.”

He doesn’t give Laurent a chance to respond before he changes his grip and drags Laurent after him, away from the party.

“Where are you taking me?” he demands, in the voice of a petulant pet.

Damianos doesn’t answer, but once they’re far enough away he stops, and holds Laurent by his arm so he can’t run away. He’s watching Laurent with narrowed eyes. “You look a lot like the prince.”

“Prince Laurent?” Laurent asks, arching a brow. “I’m often told that. It adds to my appeal.” Laurent gives him a flirty smile. “Is that what you wanted? I’d be more than happy to–”

Damianos has gone red faced, and stumbles over his words to make Laurent stop. “No, no, no. No, that’s, that’s okay. I don’t want that from you…People actually ask you to do that?”

“They  _pay_  me to do it,” Laurent corrects. “Prince Laurent is a highly sought after man, not so easily attained.” Let him think them similar in looks only; Damianos doesn’t need to wonder too much about Charls and Laurent.

Laurent needs to get back to Kastor. He’s running out of time.

“Prince Damianos,” he says, growing serious. “I have to make my rounds if I would like to eat and keep my room in the castle. If you don’t wish to buy my time, I need to find someone who will.”

Damianos seems to hesitate, a very telling move that Laurent won’t soon forget, then lets him go. Laurent gives him a parting bow, then returns to the party alone.

Kastor is gone.


	8. Reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I’m afraid you got me hooked and I need another hit of that Laurent Dresses Up As A Pet story?

Laurent meets Nicaise in his room that night. He’s wearing dark blue and pearls and little bells.

Laurent usually has Nicaise watching Auguste, not to protect him, but to keep tabs on those around him. Laurent wants to know who is talking to Auguste, when, and why, at all times. Nicaise is very good at being nosy.

Now, Laurent sends him after Kastor.

“Why would I want to do that?” Nicaise asks, using a letter opener to pick at his nails, not bothering to even look at Laurent.

Laurent doesn’t look up from his book in return. “Because I pay you, give you a place to sleep, and put warm food in your belly to do as I say.”

Nicaise hums, as if to say ‘Is that all?’ “That’s to trail after Auguste. Why would I want to follow the bastard of the barbarians?”

“Because if Auguste dies then you’re out of a job.”

Nicaise looks over then. “How are the two related?”

Laurent smirks behind his book, eyes just barely cast over the top. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Nicaise rolls his eyes.

“Someone is plotting to assassinate Auguste. Only he and I, and now you, are aware of this aside from the assassin and assailant themselves. I suspected Damianos but…” Laurent pauses, thinking through his words, and Nicaise smirks. “That didn’t pan out. I now suspect the brother.”

“Why?”

“Damianos unknowingly gave me useful information. He said Kastor thought Auguste was a weak king, too trusting.”

Nicaise nods, looking thoughtful. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Laurent wasn’t asking, but let Nicaise think what he must; the job is getting done all the same.

“So, was the crown prince worth it?”

Laurent sends Nicaise a look. “He was fine. You may go.”

Nicaise laughs and leaves through the same hidden passage he entered from.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning is much the same as it was yesterday. Laurent arrives right after Auguste, and a passive aggressive conversation begins.

“I saw you at the party last night,” Auguste says, lifting his teacup to his lips. “Red isn’t your color.”

“I look fine in red,” Laurent defends. And he does. It may not match his eyes but it looks well with his pale hair and skin. “The Vaskians are happy.”

“Much of that is your doing, is it not?”

“It was last night.”

Auguste frowns, setting down the cup. “Nicaise wasn’t in his usual spot this morning.”

“Oh,” Laurent says. “So you noticed.”

“There was a distinct lack of bells chiming behind me on the way here as well.”

Nicaise’s bells barely make a sound, unless you know to listen for them. He was instructed not to wear them while following Kastor though.

“I gave him someone else to watch.”

“The bastard?”

Laurent gives a nod, and in comes their first guests.


	9. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: i don’t know if anyone else has requested any more of it, but could i ask if you would be down to add a little more to the au where laurent disguised himself as a pet? :3c

Ancel was expecting the knock at his door, but it is neither of the two faces he had been anticipating. He smiles anyway, leaning against his door frame. “Hello, Prince Damianos. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The prince looks mildly uncomfortable, much to Ancel’s amusement. “I was hoping you could direct me to Charls? You seemed close.”

Ancel smiles a little wider, and assumes this is something Prince Laurent would like to hear about upon his visit to Ancel’s room tonight. “I’m afraid he’s out for the night. A potential contract.” He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You know how it is.”

Prince Damianos is frowning. “And who might be looking to buy his contract?”

“A great deal of people, actually,” Ancel says. “He’s very popular.”

“So I’ve been told,” he mumbles.

When Prince Damianos says nothing more, Ancel grabs the handle to his door. “I’ll pass your message along when I next see him, Prince Damianos. I do have business of my own to attend.”

If a man his color in this lighting could show a blush, he’d be as red as Ancel’s hair. “Of course. Have a pleasant evening.”

Ancel’s lips curl into a grin. “I plan to.”

Berenger is the next at his door, pressing a kiss to Ancel’s cheek and leading him to the chaise to sit with him.

Berenger is a pleasant man, more so than many of the others who’ve offered for his contract. He hesitates though, wondering if the treatment will change after.

When Prince Laurent arrives, Berenger is still there, in Ancel’s bed, half dressed, and pressing kisses to Ancel’s neck. He slips in without a knock. “Am I interrupting?”

Berenger goes red, but Ancel smiles easy. “You could say that.”

Prince Laurent smirks, then turns his eyes on Berenger. “How are the ponies? Last I heard they’d just been born.”

Ancel zones out as they talk horse, laying back and enjoying Berenger’s fingers flitting across his skin absentmindedly. He so enjoys these gentle, thoughtless caresses.

“I’m afraid my conversation with Ancel is of a private matter, and it may take the night.” For his part, Prince Laurent does look somewhat genuine.

They watch Berenger redress then take his leave. Prince Laurent is quiet for a moment, then takes a seat. “You want him to buy your contract.”

“I’m not sure yet,” he admits. He’d believe it dangerous to share had he not seen Prince Laurent in a few rather compromising positions.

Prince Laurent hums. “I’m not here to speak of Berenger though. I have need of you.”

Ancel smirks. “The pleasurable kind?”

“That’ll depend on how well you do the job.”

* * *

Ancel lays back once again, stretching out elegantly. “I have some news to share with you as well.”

Laurent cocks a brow. “Go on.”

“Prince Damianos came by this evening,” he sings. “Looking for  _Charls_.”

Laurent keeps his face from showing the pensiveness he feels. “Oh?”

“He’s found himself a favorite.”

This could put a pin in his reasons for being here tonight. “And what did you tell him?”

“That Charls is with a potential buyer tonight; that he’s very popular and very busy.”

Laurent nods. It’s similar to what he’d told Damianos himself, about looking like the prince. That will corroborate their stories. But it seems, should he need someone back in the prince’s bed, it will need to be himself doing the dirty work, so to speak.

He rises. “Keep him from looking for Charls, and any lie you fabricate needs to be run by me first.”

Ancel nods, looking ready to doze.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted your night for nothing. I’ll be on my way.”

“Feel free to call on me anytime, my Prince,” Ancel purrs after him.

* * *

Damen’s breath nearly catches in his throat when he sees a flash of blond hair down the hall, but then he sees the sleeves, and the pants, and knows it is not Charls. Nor is it Auguste judging by stature.

“Prince Laurent,” he greets upon catching up.

Laurent looks his way, and raises a perfect brow. “Prince Damianos.” He looks back to the statue he’d been observing, and Damen sees it’s of his mother. “I’ve heard you’ve taken a liking to one of our dear sweet pets.”

Damen looks over, startled by his words. Had rumors truly spread so fast? But of course, this is Vere, and these people thrive on gossip. “Perhaps,” he concedes.

Laurent’s face reveals nothing, and Damen wishes he could leave this conversation without it having disastrous consequences. “Were you hoping to take a souvenir home?”

Damen looks over to find Laurent’s eyes on him. So like those of Charls, but with less feeling to them. He can see why Charls would draw a crowd. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

Laurent turns back to the statue. “They are obligated to go where their patron goes, but I suppose that’s their choice.” After a brief pause, Laurent turns to walk away. “Good night, Prince Damianos.”

“Good night, Prince Laurent.”


	10. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: i'm a little sad the pet au isn't as popular as your other aus :') would you do one more prompt for it, if you're feeling it? :'3c

Nicaise is perched at the end of his bed, filing his nails. Laurent closes his bedroom door, and waits for Nicaise to share his news.

“There’s a woman, sleeping in his bed,” he says, after nearly five minutes of silence. “She didn’t come with their delegation, or anyone else’s. She snuck in here.” He turns to Laurent with a heavy look. “Or she was let in.”

Laurent takes a deep, quiet breath, then lets it out. “Find out everything you can on her. I want a description.”

Nicaise rolls his eyes. “Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Big breasts. Her name is Jokaste, or at least that’s what Prince Kastor moans when they have sex. Has an attitude like yours, but she’s more selfish.”

Laurent doesn’t smile at the last comment, it would only make Nicaise pissy. “Good. Go.”

Nicaise cuts him a truly venomous look, then leaves.

Laurent has heard of the Lady Jokaste. Quite a few rumors surround her, actually.

* * *

It’s late when a knock comes to his door. Late enough he considers not answering. But it could be an urgent message from his father, so Damen rolls out of bed and sees who it is.

He opens the door, and looks down to see Charls standing between his guards.

He’s painted and bejeweled and wearing only gauzy pants, and he gives Damen a coy smile. “Hello, Prince Damianos.”

Damen can’t help staring. He’s not awake enough to articulate properly. “Charls.”

Charls smirks and steps forward, but when he reaches out to lay his hand on Damen’s bare chest, his guard catches his wrist in an iron grip. Charls’ smile dies.

“Enough. He can come in.”

Charls does, sashaying passed Damen and walking to the bed with the assurity that he’ll be joined.

He isn’t wrong.

Charls is artfully laid out, one knee barely raised, thighs slightly parted, his hands resting just over his head, his hair in a halo. “How have you been, Prince Damianos?”

It feels like an invitation. It  _looks_  like an invitation. Damen leans on the door frame and folds his arms. “It’s pretty late for a visit, wouldn’t you agree?”

Charls smiles, cat-like and pleased. “I can leave, if you wish.”

When Damen doesn’t respond, he chuckles.

Charls rolls so he’s on his stomach, and lifts his hips just enough to be both subtle and suggestive, looking at Damen from over his shoulder. “If you’d like to just watch, I can do that too.”

Damen wishes he weren’t nude, so that Charls couldn’t see his cock twitch at the offer.

He isn’t trying to be subtle anymore. He raises his hips, asking for it without words. He pouts his lips when Damen doesn’t move. “Don’t you want me anymore?”

“You have no idea how much I want you,” Damen tells him, his voice lower than he feels it should be. He isn’t even hard yet.

Charls smirks, turning once more. He sits prim at the center of the bed, on his knees. “Do you need me to say it?”

“Yes.”

His eyes grow lidded. He crawls to the edge of the bed, and beckons Damen closer with a finger. When Damen is close enough, he lays his hands on his shoulders, giving a squeeze. He leans closer, close enough to kiss, and says in a husky voice that sends blood rushing to Damen’s cock, “I want you, Damianos. I want you to bend me over and show me just how much you want me, how much you miss me.” He licks Damen’s bottom lip, blue eyes sparkling. “How much you  _need_  me.”

Damen grabs Charls’ thighs and pulls so his back hits the bed. His surprise lasts for only a second, then a smirk claims his lips. “I’m already prepped.”

Damen leans over him, caging Charls’ head in with his hands. “Why might that be?”

Charls smiles, and looks like he’s genuinely having fun with this little game of theirs. “So that when you’re done, you can use the plug to keep your cum inside me.”

The image passes through Damen’s mind, and he groans at the shock of arousal. He buries his face in the crook of Charls’ neck. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Charls chuckles, his hand ghosting down Damen’s side, his hip. “You’re more use to me alive than dead.” Charls nips his earlobe. “My Prince.”

Damen’s self control, what little he’s held on to, slips from his fingers. He grabs the metal belt holding up Charls’ pants, and tries to tug it down. It doesn’t budge. “Please,” he begs into soft, creamy skin. He can’t take one more second apart.

Charls chuckles, petting his hair. “Poor thing,” he teases. “The folds of my pants are not connected.”

Damen reaches down and feels out the gauzy material, and true enough, they come apart and reveal a bejeweled plug between Charls’ cheeks.

Damen presses against it, and watches Charls’ eyes flutter, his lips part with a soft sound. “Don’t move.”

Charls smirks again. “Yes, my Prince.”

Damen kneels on the floor so he can see the glass plug, and the large, blue jewel on the end. He presses against it again and watches Charls’ hole clench around it. Another soft noise from those plump, pink lips.

He smirks, pulling at it, and the hole still clenches, then relaxes. Damen pulls a little more, and watches the largest end stretch his hole wide, wider than Damen’s cock, and then slip out the rest of the way. Excess lube slips out, and Damen puts a finger inside him.

Charls gasps, his hips shift.

“Don’t move,” Damen warns.

He twists his finger and presses up. Charls gasps again, but he doesn’t move. His cock is hard under the front of his pants, and Damen would happily suck it if he knew how to get it out.

“We don’t have all night, Prince Damianos,” Charls drawls, sounding only a little breathless.

Damen keeps his finger moving against that spot, knowing the pleasure Charls will get from it. “I have nowhere to be in the morning. Do you?”

Charls is panting, softly, his fingers clutching the blanket. “I might.”

Damen smiles at his petulant tone. He stands, removing his finger. “If we have so little time, then I guess we best get to business.”

Damen walks around the bed for the lube in the side table, and smears some on his cock as he returns. Charls’ eyes are dark as he watches.

Damen takes one leg, guiding it so Charls’ foot catches over his shoulder, then he repeats it with the other, and leans over.

Charls’ legs go forward until Damen can press a kiss to his lips. He has him folded in half. “You’re perfect.”

Charls lets a laugh slip.

Damen smiles, reaching down to line his cock up, then carefully thrusts until he’s all the way inside.

Charls gasps, then curls his fingers into Damen’s hair. “Show me that you want me,” he demands.

He holds Charls hips down on the bed, then pounds into him.

* * *

Laurent whines as the plug is pressed into his abused hole. It’s cool against his overheated skin.

Damianos kisses the crease of his thigh, then rises.

He has a strange look in his eyes, and his face is unusually unexpressive. Laurent tilts his head, flutters his lashes. “Is something wrong?”

Damianos starts to frown, his brows furrow. “How much is this unexpected visit going to cost me?”

Laurent smirks, then stretches. “I’ll make a deal with you. Let me stay here tonight, and it’s on the house.”

Damianos raises a brow, and his face begins to relax. “That’s all?”

“You have a very nice bed,” he says. It’s not quite as good as the bed in Laurent’s rooms, but it is better than the beds in the pet quarters.

Damianos chuckles, and Laurent’s plan begins to take action.

He gets in with Laurent, and pulls him close. “Is this okay?” His voice is quiet, like he’s ready to go back to sleep.

Laurent puts a leg over Damianos’ hip, a moan slipping passed his lips as it shifts the plug inside him. “It’s more than okay.”

Damianos plants a kiss to his head, because he’s very affectionate after sex.

When he feels Damianos’ grip start to loosen around him as sleep comes, he whispers a question. “Damianos? What did you mean when you said you were tired of people choosing your brother over you?”

Damianos hums, then takes a heavy breath. “I was courting a woman. We were supposed to be married, but I found her in bed with my brother.”

Laurent shifts closer. “That sounds awful.”

He hums his agreement.

Laurent gives it a little more time, for Damianos to start dozing again. “What was her name?”

“Huh? Uh, Jokaste,” he mumbles.

Laurent furrows his brows, then blinks up at him. “You mean the woman in Prince Kastor’s room?”

Damianos’ eyes peek open then, staring down at Laurent in confusion. “Jokaste isn’t here.”

“Oh,” Laurent says, then snuggles back into his chest. “I was just wondering who the blonde woman was. She’s run off a few of the other pets.”

He keeps his face relaxed, even as he feels Damianos tensing around him.

Laurent sleeps peacefully then, knowing the pieces of his plan have all fallen into place.


	11. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Ohhhh I need more of this Laurent as a pet AU! I’m so curious about what’s going to happen next and I really want to read when Damen will realize that Charls = Laurent. I’m guessing that he’ll try to kiss Laurent and he’ll recognize the kiss or something like that but you always surprise me in the best way so I can’t wait!

When Laurent wakes up, it’s to heavy pounding on the door. Damianos isn’t in bed with him, but Laurent is still snuggled under the covers and the fire is now going on the other side of the room. There’s a little sheet of paper on the side table with his name on it.

Laurent sits up with a groan and folds the note a few more times before tucking it into a discreet pocket in his pants where the gauze is thickest.

He catches his reflection on his way out, someone still knocking against the door. His hair is only a mild mess, but the oily paint on his skin is thoroughly smeared. He looks debauched.

Laurent ignores it in favor of answering the door.

He peeks it open, glancing out. His eyes meet leather armor, so he trails his gaze up farther and finds a guard staring down at him. Laurent opens the door wider and smirks. “Are you here to throw me out?”

The Akielon either doesn’t speak Veretian or won’t speak with Laurent, because he steps away, revealing Ancel standing behind him, in hardly a better state than Laurent, though with less paint. Berenger must have stayed the night again.

“The king wishes our presence,” he says. “There’s been an incident with the Akielon princes and we were called forth as witnesses, Charls.”

Auguste is the worst.

Laurent brings worry to his features and hurries after Ancel.

They hook arms and walk with purpose like any pair of pets might when their patrons have given them leave.

“How bad is it?” Laurent asks.

“Word is, Prince Damianos stormed Prince Kastor’s room this morning and tried to kill him.” Ancel gives Laurent a rather lazy look, then turns his eyes back forward. “But you know how gossip gets twisted in Arles; there’s hardly a kernel of truth to a story by the end of the day.”

Laurent had assumed something to that effect might happen, though with a little less violence. If the kernel of truth is the attempted murder, then Laurent doesn’t have Damianos figured out as well as he’d hoped.

* * *

When they are let into the throne room, sans council, for this is not a matter of state, Auguste’s eyes rove over Laurent. Then his lips thin.

He’s sitting on his throne, the new twin addition empty at his side. Damianos and Kastor both stand before the thrones, backs somewhat straight as they receive whatever their punishment may be. Nicaise is in a small lineup of pets, and he’s carefully dressed himself as a page. Every one of them are in Laurent’s employ or are to be recruited once their contracts expire.

Laurent suppresses a smirk. Auguste knows him too well.

Auguste gestures, and Ancel and Laurent stand at the end.

Damianos glances at him.

Auguste stands now that everyone has joined them, and begins the proceedings.

“Prince Kastor, you understand the charges against you?”

Kastor nods, and looks more than a little pissed about being here.

“And you, Prince Damianos?”

Another nod, this one more accepting of its fate.

Auguste is still frowning, still staring down at the half brothers. “Everyone here claims to be witness to a woman in your room, Prince Kastor. Yet you deny it, and evidence of one could not be found when searched.” Auguste walks up to Kastor, and stares into his eyes. Laurent is not comfortable with his close proximity. “How is it that they are all wrong?”

Kastor gives an ugly smile. “They’re Veretian.”

Auguste doesn’t react, though more than a few of the pets do. They consider themselves the peak of beauty, and don’t take to insult lightly. Laurent pulls a scowl.

Auguste steps back, then walks the lineup. “Please, would you all tell me her hair color?”

“Blonde,” they all recite at once.

Auguste hums, turning to look at Kastor once more. He walks up to his throne and takes his seat. “Prince Kastor, I wish to inform you that Lady Jokaste was found in a secret passage when I had my guards search them, and she is currently detained in the dungeons.”

Kastor stands straighter, and that gives him away. Auguste smirks.

The royal guard clap in him irons and drag him fighting down to the dungeon to join his dear, sweet Lady.

“Prince Damianos that just leaves the matter of you,” Auguste says, sitting a little more lax in his throne, a little more bored in tone.

He probably hasn’t even had breakfast yet. His guards likely reported the commotion the second it happened, which meant Auguste was pulled from bed by servants and dressed very quickly.

Laurent almost feels bad about it, but Auguste dragged him here to share his fate–-with a plug still stuffed inside of him no less-–and his sympathy withers like leaves in autumn.

“Do you deny visiting your brother this morning?”

“No.”

“Do you deny seeing Lady Jokaste in his bed?”

“No,” his voice comes out a little more gruff then, and Laurent notes it.

“Do you deny punching Prince Kastor?”

“No.”

Auguste hums. “So you are guilty as charged, then.”

Damianos smiles, wry. “It would seem so.”

Auguste looks mildly amused, then straightens in his seat. “You should know, amongst Prince Kastor’s effects, there was a tasteless, odorless vial of poison found in his room.”

Damianos, ever the open book, lets his jaw drop. Laurent triumphs in being right about Kastor. He supposes Jokaste may have been the assassin. He doesn’t know her skill sets, hidden or otherwise.

With the poison out of play, and the clients detained, it matters not whether she was the assassin or someone else. There will be no regicide.

Laurent will still have eyes on Auguste and any suspicious activity, but he is sure he’ll sleep better at night now knowing Auguste is safe.

“I’m dropping your charges, not that it was to be a grand punishment,” Auguste says. “A mere slap on the wrist and sent on your way. You’ve solved a crisis that has burdened my brother for some time now. And saved my life, of course.

"I am in your debt for this. I cannot go out by your side until such a time as I can return the favor, but you may ask one thing of me and I shall grant it.”

Damianos seems awestruck, but still manages a bow and a thanks as he leaves.

Auguste waits until the door closes behind him before turning his wrath on Laurent. “ _Leave us._ ”

Nicaise snorts a laugh as they all leave, but they won’t speak of it outside of themselves. Laurent pays them too well.

Auguste storms up to Laurent, absolutely furious. “Before you try and defend yourself, I’m going to thank you for saving my life.” His tone and expression do not convey thanks. “And now I am going to tell you that if  _Charls_  is seen wandering the halls, he is to be returned to  _Prince Laurent’s_  rooms. On the  _king’s_  orders.”

He says this with the belief that Laurent won’t be doing it again, not while under threat.

How annoying.

Laurent looks into his brother’s eyes, and smirks. “Damianos is going to ask you for me.”

Auguste’s brow tics.

“I suppose he told you I could be found in his bed, yes?” Laurent starts to walk a circle around Auguste. He has always been better at containing his frustration with Auguste than his brother with him. Auguste feels too strongly, but it is not a terrible quality in a king. It  _would_  be in that king’s spymaster. “It wouldn’t be my first time there. He provides  _many_  good reasons to return.”

“Stop this, Laurent.”

“Why?” he asks. He makes himself aloof, stepping away to lean against a pillar. “I only tell the truth.”

“Fine,” Auguste growls. He puts his face very close to Laurent’s as he says, “let me share a truth with you. Damianos is a man of honor. How do you think he’ll feel once he learns who you really are?”

* * *

Auguste lets his guards close the doors to his office. If he were to do it, he would slam them hard enough to shake the walls and echo the halls.

Nicaise is sitting on the edge of his desk, his little bells once more around his ankles and page garb abandoned. He’s smiling. “You torn into Laurent.”

“You were watching.”

Nicaise turns his head, earring swinging. “Of course not, the other pets wouldn’t let me.” He starts smiling again. “But I saw him as he returned to his rooms.”

Auguste sits in his chair, folding his hands together. He props his chin on top of them. His body aches and his eyes burn. He’s drained. Laurent has always been far too good at riling him up. “And?”

Nicaise puts the back of his hand to his forehead. Always dramatic. “Devastation.”

Auguste’s brows furrow. “Elaborate.”

Nicaise pouts at him, then drops his hand back to the desk. “He didn’t walk with his usual sense of entitlement. Once he’d hit the halls only the royal family can enter, he had his arms wrapped around himself and he’d lost all swagger.”

Nicaise’s retelling has equal chances of being exaggerated and being true. Either way, Auguste feels the words strike through his heart with the intention of hurting him.

He puts his head in his hands. Then sighs, “I should apologize.”

Nicaise makes a sound, but Auguste knows his interest has shifted; outwardly, at least.

“I was too hard on him,” he continues anyway.

“Of course you were,” Nicaise says. He’s never pulled a punch before, and especially not when Auguste is being less than kingly.

Auguste looks up to see he’s playing with the feather of a quill.

Nicaise goes on. “Laurent is so clearly falling in love with Damianos. And while the feelings are obviously returned, it is through a farce.”

And Laurent knows that, but wasn’t acknowledging it. And Auguste had thrown it in his face.

He groans, burying his face in his hands once more.

Nicaise huffs a laugh.

* * *

Jord opens his doors without a word, and even Lazar is kind enough not to point out his state of dress for the expression that must be resting on his face.

Laurent sits on his bed, even as a sigh passes his lips from the plug pressing deeper into him. He’ll need to remove that soon, and clean himself out afterwards.

He pulls the note from his pocket.

He could read it now. See what words Damianos decided to spare him before leaving to deal with his brother.

He could read it later, when his mood has improved. He may be able to better appreciate the words then.

He could rip it up. He won’t be allowed out as Charls again, so it is not as though they matter.

He sighs, lying back.


	12. Sick and Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I hope Laurent doesn’t tear up that note but reads it and then rushes to Damen to tell him the truth before he finds out some other way. I don’t want my boys to be sad and separated! Give us another per Laurent AU please!!

The note was nothing more than an apology for not being there when Charls woke up, and an invitation to stay as long as he pleased.

Laurent threw it in the fire.

When breakfast the next day came around, Laurent took it in his rooms, sending a note of apology to his brother, claiming he didn’t feel well enough to attend.

He did not want to burden the visiting dignitaries and diplomats with his and Auguste’s petty squabble, especially so close to the wedding.

So he’s rather surprised when his door is opened without a knock and Auguste is let in. Laurent hadn’t even bothered to properly dress yet. “Brother.”

“Laurent,” he says. Auguste takes a seat on the couch across from Laurent and puts his folded fingers between his legs. His shoulders are slumped forward. “I want to apologize for yesterday.”

Laurent turns his head, because he does not want to look into Auguste’s sad eyes. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Now, best hurry or you’ll be late to breakfast.”

“I’m king and they will wait.”

Laurent turns back to him then. Auguste rarely lets his duties go unattended like this.

Auguste looks truly anguished. “I’m sorry, Laurent. I never should have been so harsh with you. No matter how mad I am, I had no right to treat you that way. I feel terrible about my actions.”

For a haughty moment, Laurent wants to tell him he should, but the words turn to ash in his throat as quickly as they arrived.

“They were not untrue,” he says instead.

Auguste seems to sink farther into his seat. “That isn’t the point. They should never have been said.”

“But they needed to be said. You were right. Damianos would never want me and I don’t know why I entertained the thought. This isn’t another one of my stories, this is real life.” He stands, then gives a formal bow to his brother. “If you’ll excuse me, my King.”

And Laurent walks back into his bedchamber where Auguste will not dare to follow him now, and locks the door.

* * *

Damen can’t help but notice the slouch the king sits in, even in his tightly laced jacket. He’s eating, but hardly. And he isn’t talking to anyone either.

He doesn’t know if he has the right to ask, but he tries anyway. “Is something bothering you, King Auguste?”

King Auguste’s eyes cut to him, blue gaze piercing, and he sets down his fork. “It’s nothing. Laurent hasn’t been feeling well, and I worry if he’ll be at the wedding tomorrow.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Damen hadn’t taken much notice of the younger prince as of late, other than in passing. He seems as stoic and closed off as always. Perhaps that is why he isn’t here now, because he cannot hide it anymore?

“Never mind that.” Auguste turns more fully toward him, his queen to-be in between them. “Have you thought any on what you might ask of me?”

Damen has. He isn’t sure he has the right to ask this either though, and he’s less brave in trying. “I’m still thinking,” he tells him.

Something shines in Auguste’s eyes as he says this, but nothing in his face tells him what it might be. “Take all the time you need. I will not rescind the offer because of your departure after the wedding.”

And then they return to their food, and Damen gets trapped in his own swirling thoughts.


	13. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: What is Damen’s request? I hope he does ask for Charls the pet... but I also really want him to get close to Laurent independently... please do another pet Laurent AU!

Auguste had smiled bright when he saw Laurent walking through the chapel, checking everything to make sure all was in place.

He’d hugged him, whispering another apology and thanking him for showing up. Laurent had squeezed him tighter. “I’d never leave you standing alone, brother.”

Auguste took his place, and Laurent tugged his wrist lacing, a signal to the archers hiding in the rafters and behind the curtains to be at the ready. Another tug at his neck, and his pets took their places by the windows. They’re out of the paints and in heavy makeup. Gone with the scant gauzy clothing and instead tied tight in lacing to the throat. They don’t look like pets anymore. They barely look like themselves.

Laurent sees Damianos walk in, smiling and speaking with the other guests. His eyes drift to Laurent, then Laurent can feel Auguste’s eyes on him as well, and he purposefully looks at neither.

Orlant taps Laurent’s shoulder and drags his attention away. He’s thankful for the distraction. They step aside and Orlant reports that all the guards and soldiers have taken their positions outside, that Jord and Lazar are overseeing the signal archers outside the windows.

Laurent thanks him and has him return to his own post outside the door.

He steps up beside Auguste just as the priest steps behind the podium. Auguste doesn’t get to ask what Orlant had to say, which Laurent had anticipated.

The music begins, and Laurent folds his hands in front of himself as everyone takes their seats. Damianos, being royalty himself, is sitting closest to the front.

The bride’s ladies come up the aisle first. She only has two, and Laurent is the only one standing with Auguste.

Then the bride enters, and she _is_ in the dress Laurent saw being made for her, but the veil is new.

She walks slowly, with a white bouquet in her hands, and Laurent tries to figure out why she has a veil.

They’d never agreed to a veil; it isn’t tradition in Vask, nor so in Vere. Her and Auguste have been sharing a hall for nearing two months now.

She has no need of a veil.

She steps up and takes her place across from Auguste, and gives a nod that she’s ready.

She hadn’t said it though.

Laurent moves just in time to wrench Auguste back as her hand thrusts out at his throat, blade ready to slice his skin and kill him. He hits the floor with Laurent landing over him.

An archer from the rafters hits her shoulder, then another in her leg.

She makes a choked sound and rushes for the window as the crowd tries to gather its wits about what has occurred.

One of Laurent’s pets has already thrown open a window, and the archers send the fire flying.

All the guards know. And Laurent is more than thankful he anticipated something happening, even with Kastor and Jokaste locked up.

He gets up and tackles her limping form to the ground. She fights like an animal cornered, kicking and screaming and biting. She manages to nick his cheek with her blade before Laurent gets her arms pinned.

Laurent knows that’s bad. He knows that’s very bad.

Orlant and several other guards on Laurent’s payroll pin her down, one kicking her in the head to knock her unconscious, and drag her from the room.

Laurent watches as the crowd either weeps or stands frozen in shock, and touches a hand to his cheek.

The blood is dark, his face stings. A crawling pain reaching out from the cut and becoming worse.

“Aug–” his throat is tightening, closing, his vision blurring. “Guste…”

His world tilts, then fades to black.


	14. The Big Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: No no no Laurent cannot be poisoned. I hope this is somehow how Damen finds out he’s Charls somehow. I need more Laurent as a pet AU!

They found his true bride in her bed, her room demolished and her body mottled in bruises. She was left in her skivvies, gagged and tied eagle to her bedposts, and beyond enraged.

The empress had been less than pleased finding her daughter left in such a state. And by that, Auguste means she’d destroyed the room further and lectured him on his poor care of her daughter. During this time, his bride was taken by her maids to be dressed and treated.

Auguste was anxious to leave, but with the empress still so angry, he felt left without escape. Prince Damianos had seen to Laurent being taken to Paschal, led by Nicaise, Auguste’s ‘page’, and Auguste had gone with his guards on a search party.

So while he waits for her to finish spitting obscenities and berating him, he can at least rest easy knowing Damianos is with Laurent.

That Laurent isn’t alone right now.

* * *

Damen stands back and watches the physician, Paschal, work to treat Prince Laurent. He keeps to the wall while assistants rush about the room at Paschal’s every order.

Even faster still when Prince Laurent starts coughing and choking, his throat closing up from the poison.

As soon as the attack had started, Damen has jumped out of his seat, and, lacking a sword himself, went to get the guards outside the door.

When he’d come back in, Prince Laurent had been nicked with the bride’s–- _assassin’s_  blade, then disarmed and pinned her.

The guards had taken her from there, but Prince Laurent’s eyes started turning glassy, his pupils wide, lips falling open.

An image of Charls had passed unbidden through his mind, then Prince Laurent had collapsed, a plea for his brother on his lips.

Now, Damen fights to keep from pacing as all the activity around rides high on his nerves.

Paschal is handed a knife and cuts through all the lacing to Prince Laurent’s jacket, up to his neck, then rips the sides apart. He’s still wearing an undershirt, but it’s loose and doesn’t pass his collarbones.

Damen is taken aback by the faded hickies dotting his neck. From what he understood, Prince Laurent didn’t hold interest beyond statecraft, riding, and his books.

Then he looks closer, as Paschal stabs a needle into Prince Laurent’s neck and he gives a full body shudder.

Damen’s eyes go wide, and his breath feels robbed from his lungs.


End file.
